


One Mint Julep

by bettervillains



Series: Wool Skirt/Leather Jacket [4]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Bathroom, F/F, Scientific Method, profit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettervillains/pseuds/bettervillains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erin didn't realized she'd sunk into her arms and kissed her until she heard Abby choking on her beer. </p>
<p>"Daaaaamn," Patty murmured, then laughed as Erin's hand slid into Holtzmann's hair, a flick of her tongue... "Shit, she's really going for it!" </p>
<p>"That explains the panties," Abby sighed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Mint Julep

**Author's Note:**

> Probably the last snippet of this series (unless I get a request) — I'll focus my attention from here on out on Ardent for _Ghostbusters,_ and Pictures in the Smoke for _Carol._
> 
> Special shoutout to the anon on tumblr who sent me a message saying "do a chapter where Erin takes charge". This one's for you. 
> 
> (Come drop me a line on tumblr @bettervillains)

_Observation: Girls who dance on tables seem to have a lot of fun while doing so._

_Hypothesis: Six or more drinks will lead to the confidence and lack of care necessary to dance on tables._

_Experiment: Consume —_

“Hey, ‘livia!” 

The bartender in question turned, hands on her hips.

“I really don’t think I should serve you anything else.”

Erin gawked. 

“It’s not for me! It’s —" she turned, helplessly, looking around the bar for — "There, the birthday girl! Just wants another beer." 

She waved to Abby, who was wearing a hand stitched sash that read BIRTHDAY GHOUL in green. She waved back, laughing at some joke Patty had just tsked under her breath. 

The bartender sighed, and pulled her another beer. Erin grinned and traipsed over to Abby, dodging people to the music. 

"Your drink, fair lady," she announced. A fourth of it had sloshed out of the glass, but Abby took it anyway. 

"Hey, where's Holtzy?" Patty mused. "I know she likes to make an entrance, but..." 

Erin's mind wandered as Patty and Abby made bets on Holtzmann's latest excuse. She had snuck out while the engineer was in the shower, dressing quickly in whatever she could find and calling a cab. Not the classiest move, but it had all happened so quickly (her stomach lurched at the thought of Holtzmann's expression when she realized she'd gone), and couldn't a girl have some space to think? They hadn't seen each other since, and now...

"Erin? Helloooo, earth to Dr. Gilbert?"

"This is Dr. Gilbert, go ahead Earth," Erin slurred back, grinning. "Whoa — imagine ghosts in space." 

"Ghosts in space?" called a voice behind the group, "Sign me up. 

Erin froze as Abby crowed and threw her arms around Holtzmann. Patty shoved her shoulder. 

"Hm, I swear you're never on time to anything!"

Holtzmann swatted at Patty's arm, as if that explained everything. 

"Had to see a man about a dog. What are we drinking?"

"Uh, draft for us, Erin's been cut off." 

Holtzmann turned to examine her. Erin's eyes flicked over her outfit — a crisp button down tucked into dark pants, a blazer, her ordinarily tousled hair tamed into some sort of submission, glasses cleaned... 

She looked stunning. Put together. Something tugged at the pit of Erin's stomach. 

"Cut off? The doc?" 

And then Holtzmann was too close to ignore anymore. She dropped her voice, so only Erin could hear, reached out to touch her wrist. 

"You okay?"

She smelled like leather and fission scorch and bergamot. God, she wanted those arms around her again. That crazy hair knotted in her fingers. Those quirking lips against hers, her skin —

Erin didn't realized she'd sunk into her arms and kissed her until she heard Abby choking on her beer. 

"Daaaaamn," Patty murmured, then laughed as Erin's hand slid into Holtzmann's hair, a flick of her tongue... "Shit, she's really going for it!" 

"That explains the panties," Abby sighed. 

She reached over, tapping Holtzmann on the shoulder until the two pulled apart. Lipstick smeared across Holtzmann's lips, Erin's hard breathing, Holtzmann's wide eyes —

"Y'all wanna like... Offer any kind of explanation?" 

Erin shook her head, grabbing Holtzmann's hand and tugging her towards the restroom. 

"Back in a minute, Abby!" Holtzmann called, weakly, "Happy birthd—"

The door shut behind them, and Erin pressed her against the door to kiss her again, turning the lock. The room was small, built for one, but Erin didn't mind. Nice and cozy and —

"Pump the brakes, Gilbert," Holtz murmured, holding her steady. "You taste like... all the spirits."

"Well, I am a Ghostbuster," Erin replied, a sloppy grin twined in her lips. 

Holtzmann smiled, but there was a timidity behind it, a lingering sadness, like a kicked puppy —

"You, uh... Nobody's done that. To me. Before."

Erin bit her cheek, buried her forehead against her shoulder. "I was scared." 

"It's a scary thing."

Erin looked up. "Didn't think you'd be scared of anything." 

Holtz laughed, jovially, shook her head. 

"I'm scared of everything. Just like anyone else. But..."

Her voice trailed off. Erin ran her fingertips over her arm, down to her knuckles, tangling in her fingers. 

"But you do it anyway," Erin murmured, brain buzzing, "Right?"

Holtz nodded. 

"I wanna do it anyway. This. You."

"You wanna do me," Holtz said, smiling. "Romantic."

Erin leaned up, pressed a slow kiss along her neck. Holtz's head rolled back, hitting the door as her hips rolled forward. 

"Can be," Erin murmured, fingers fumbling with the button of Holtzmann's pants. "What do you say?"

"Yeah-s. Yes. Yeah." 

Erin grinned. 

"Then help me — 'cause I'm, want to fuck you but your pants are weird and this —"

Holtz cut her off with a hard kiss, hands on her jaw, then gasped as Erin giggled against her lips, squeezing her ass. 

"I like these pants," slurred Erin, coy, "Might gotta confiscate them." 

Holtz opened her mouth to argue, but Erin's hand had finally flicked the zipper open, snuck down her stomach, between her legs —

Her head hit the door with a loud think. 

"Shh," Erin snickered, "We gotta be quiet there's —" _Fuck, that was hot..._ "There's people on the other side of the d-door and they could —"

Her fingers slipped over slick heat, thumb nudging her clit, an attempt at clumsy circles. Holtzmann's nails dug into her back, rolling against her, and it was so much sensation, overwhelming Erin — the haze of booze and Holtzmann's eyes and Holtzmann's cologne and whatever half-divine half-cosmic blend of noise blended into that delectable moan — it was almost too much for Erin to stay on her feet...

But then Holtz was kissing her, and there was strength in her knees again, and her fingers thrust and curled and circled and pressed and she wished she'd done something with that button-down first because she didn't have enough hands, now, and she knew the warm, soft skin she could find under her, remembering hours in bed, curled into her — she settled for the available skin beneath the wings of her collar, leaving red marks and lipstick all along her collarbone as Holtz bucked under her fingers, groaning loudly against her lips —

If she hadn't been quite so drunk, she might have noticed the tightening of her grip, the sharp breaths, all the indicators that they were surging towards an ending — but there was a thrumming in her blood that was almost audible, a haze of whiskey and vodka and Holtzmann, god, beautiful, erratic, perfect —

"Fuck," she groaned, right into her neck, and she felt Holtzmann tighten and gasp and thrust against her, the door shaking behind her back, "I want you to —"

She didn't even get to say it. The result was, scientifically speaking, absolutely volatile. She thought, for a moment, that Holtzmann might break her fingers, or sprain her wrist, or at least take out a chunk of her lip with her teeth as she ground against her, desperate moans leaking out through her lips until, at last, she slumped back against the door, panting, Erin holding her up. 

For a moment, neither said anything. The room echoed with the sound of staggered, stuttered breaths, until —

"Jeepers." 

Erin groaned. "Only you." 

Holtz nuzzled at her shoulder with her nose, breathing hard, "Yeah?"

Erin considered, if only for a moment, then ran her fingers through her hair, "Yeah." 

 

Patty waited until Abby had lifted her beer to her lips to say it.

"Ten bucks they're fuckin' in there."

"Patty!" Abby yelped, spluttering, wiping her mouth, then sighed. 

"No bet."


End file.
